I'VE worn many hats (helmets) over the years, not the least of which was as Chief Instructor for Canada Safety Council's, National M/C training program. During my first long stint in Fort McMurray, I applied as an instructor in Edmonton, completing the Instructors program, I was the youngest graduate ever... that however was only a first tiny step. I needed the Alberta Safety council's George Demery and Bob Novikoff to lend their muscle.
To be recommended to the CI program in Ottawa during a frigid February I needed a waiver. By the way, both George and Bob tried desperately to talk me out of the try out, but I think it was just their way of screening potential candidates. To be considered for a CI designation meant that you had to have several years as both an instructor and senior instructor. I had neither.
The plane that carried me from Fort Mac to Calgary from whence I flew east instead of the usual west to Penticton, crashed that night into a snowplow coming into Cranbrook, and killed most of the passengers. Fate was in my favor that day as I was to find out later.
At the week long course, as the youngest candidate ever, they put us hopefuls through a rigorous program intent on weeding out the wanne be's from the canbe's. As I found out from Stu Monro, Peter Fassnacht and Chris Brown (if memory serves) they were not happy with my participation, having thought that I was someone's nephew or other, and was receiving special treatment. There were 14 other candidates I think, ranging from motorcycle police patrol officers and motorcycle police from the CDN forces. I didn't realize it at the time but was told during my final interview that they had concluded before I set foot at the armory, that I was "not to pass" In fact, they tried to break me during the week long session. It wasn't until we as a group, were instructed to put together the course riding exam in the restricted confines of the building, and some obvious bickering and posturing surfaced during the clash of ego's, that they began to change their minds.
After being unusually quiet and reserved in this exalted company of "experts" I stepped in, this short little kid from Fort McHell, calmed them all down, suggested, some said delegated certain people to certain tasks. Even when I was riding the pre-test course, my over-sized CSC issue, red coveralls got caught on a cleated foot-peg as I was putting my foot down, and I crashed to the floor, bike on top, I underneath... I got up, dusted myself off, folded the legs up again as I had done a hundred times during the week, and aced the course. Like Edmonton, I was the only one that cleared the test without mistake. During my final interview as I mentioned earlier, they told me about the pre-judgement but then in that last hour, decided that I was indeed worthy of the lofty status of C.I.
MC 536 was issued to me, and I spent much of the next 20 years setting up programs and training instructors and students alike.
Which leads me to today... When I am "instructing" or the senior rider, I can get into instructors mode very easily. When I'm in I.M. I can be rather clear and concise and no nonsense... (pain in the rear)
I wondered when Mr. Smith was going to tell me to shut the F up already! You see, I don't miss a beat to remind people that our safety depends mostly on us. Like I always said... no use being right, if you ended up dead, right... right!
Ride on...
To be recommended to the CI program in Ottawa during a frigid February I needed a waiver. By the way, both George and Bob tried desperately to talk me out of the try out, but I think it was just their way of screening potential candidates. To be considered for a CI designation meant that you had to have several years as both an instructor and senior instructor. I had neither.
The plane that carried me from Fort Mac to Calgary from whence I flew east instead of the usual west to Penticton, crashed that night into a snowplow coming into Cranbrook, and killed most of the passengers. Fate was in my favor that day as I was to find out later.
At the week long course, as the youngest candidate ever, they put us hopefuls through a rigorous program intent on weeding out the wanne be's from the canbe's. As I found out from Stu Monro, Peter Fassnacht and Chris Brown (if memory serves) they were not happy with my participation, having thought that I was someone's nephew or other, and was receiving special treatment. There were 14 other candidates I think, ranging from motorcycle police patrol officers and motorcycle police from the CDN forces. I didn't realize it at the time but was told during my final interview that they had concluded before I set foot at the armory, that I was "not to pass" In fact, they tried to break me during the week long session. It wasn't until we as a group, were instructed to put together the course riding exam in the restricted confines of the building, and some obvious bickering and posturing surfaced during the clash of ego's, that they began to change their minds.
After being unusually quiet and reserved in this exalted company of "experts" I stepped in, this short little kid from Fort McHell, calmed them all down, suggested, some said delegated certain people to certain tasks. Even when I was riding the pre-test course, my over-sized CSC issue, red coveralls got caught on a cleated foot-peg as I was putting my foot down, and I crashed to the floor, bike on top, I underneath... I got up, dusted myself off, folded the legs up again as I had done a hundred times during the week, and aced the course. Like Edmonton, I was the only one that cleared the test without mistake. During my final interview as I mentioned earlier, they told me about the pre-judgement but then in that last hour, decided that I was indeed worthy of the lofty status of C.I.
MC 536 was issued to me, and I spent much of the next 20 years setting up programs and training instructors and students alike.
Which leads me to today... When I am "instructing" or the senior rider, I can get into instructors mode very easily. When I'm in I.M. I can be rather clear and concise and no nonsense... (pain in the rear)
I wondered when Mr. Smith was going to tell me to shut the F up already! You see, I don't miss a beat to remind people that our safety depends mostly on us. Like I always said... no use being right, if you ended up dead, right... right!
Ride on...
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